I'm In Here
by Switzerland1996
Summary: We follow Macy Madeline  OFC  from her possession to her untimely death by a demon.  Song I'm In Here was my inspiration!  Me no own nothing! ONE-SHOT


**We follow Macy Madeline from her possession to her untimely death by a demon… Inspired by I'm in Here by Sia. (love this freakin' song) I do not own the characters, other than Macy… But I would trade Macy for Dean and Sam in a heartbeat. (:**

My mother always told me to never cut through an alley, that even if I was being chased, an alley would only lead to my demise. She raised me right and taught me the rights and wrongs; my mother was a good woman. When she passed everything kind of tilted to the left and made an illegal U-turn. My father fell into Jack's arms, along with Jose's guiding advice, and didn't talk much. My brothers never called anymore.

I moved into the city, where I figured everyone would just let me blend in and I wouldn't be the girl whose mother was stabbed to death in that one apartment. I didn't even mean to walk into the alley, actually, but my feet led me straight into a dead end alley. I was leaning against the wall, taking deep breaths as I tried to figure out how I could have managed to squeeze myself into such a sticky situation, when my breath was cut off and I felt like something like a two-by-four was being shoved down my throat.

I fought it, clawed at the brick behind me even, but it was no use. The black smoke that had surrounded me moments later was inside me, swimming around and coating my insides with evil. It painted my lungs with its breath, and flooded my brain with its thoughts. I wasn't in control as I walked back up through the alley. I didn't have a choice but to watch as my hands wrapped around a man's neck. I had no choice but to see the blood spout from his mouth and down his beard as he was choked to death, his throat crushed.

And when I stepped back, I didn't even get to cry. I didn't get to scream. I was trapped inside my own mind, clawing at nothing, and crying out for help.

As I killed more and more people I decided I was crazy. I must have passed out in that alley and knocked my head on the brick. I was no longer in control of my body because I had died. Yeah, and my eyes were given to someone else so I was just seeing what they were doing. I wasn't doing this, this new person was. But the fantasy was ruined when I would look into the mirror after another murder and rub the blood over my lips and face.

I would suck the red liquid off my fingers and grin with stains around my usually white teeth. I would rub the still warm blood all over my body, and laugh and cheer. I would smile in satisfaction at my reflection, the demented reflection of a demon. I was a demon.

I was killing people, hurting them. I just wanted to die.

The one time I was cutting a blonde girl, maybe seventeen or eighteen, to little bits, something changed. As I dug the knife into her temple and drug it down, and she screamed out, the door burst open behind me. Two large men pulled out guns and shot my shoulder. I screamed on the inside, but on the outside, I was raising my hand and throwing the men against the wall. I was caught off guard when the blonde worked her way out of her binds, while I was talking to the men about something too complex for me to understand, and hit me over the head with a large metal bin.

When I woke up I was tied down to a chair. I looked up at the two men, still the same ones I had been talking to, and wanted to beg them to help me. I wanted them to know I was in here, I wanted them to see me, I wanted them to help me. Instead, I glared up at them and spat out, "Sam and Dean Winchester, so great to see you two."

"Wish I could say the same," the shorter snarked back. "Why are you killing all these people?"

"To get your attention, of course!" I said cheerfully.

"Why would you want our attention?" the taller one questioned, sharing a look with his brother.

"Oh, Sammy, I missed you dearly. You were locked up with Lucifer and Michael; I didn't even get a chance!" I pouted.

Dean, the shorter one, back handed me. I spat out blood and turned back to him, "That all you got?"

His jaw locked and Sam cut in, "What do you want?"

"I can't really say, but so far, everything is in place," I grinned, smirking at the two proudly.

"What's that mean?" Dean demanded.

"The girl I'm possessing, she's really quite a fool," I said, only confusing myself. "She thinks she's the one killing the people, she's so wound up in her own little world that she thinks she still has control of her body, her life."

Dean's jaw was ticking and Sam was fishing around his bag for something, ignoring me as I continued, "Macy Madeline, that's her name. She lost her mother to a few demons herself. They stabbed her to death in an abandoned set of apartments. I wish I could have been there, I heard she was quite the hunter herself."

"Is this what you came to do? Tell us the life story of the girl you're riding?" Dean pulled a jug of water to his side.

"I just figured you'd want to know who you were torturing, Dean. You did such a great job when you were downstairs, I always knew you wouldn't give up such a great talent," I laughed.

He uncapped the water and splashed it on my body. It felt like acid was pouring through me, my bones groaned and my skin bubbled. I screamed out, but it ended in a laugh. I looked up at Dean and shook my head. "Alistair taught you better than that!"

Sam was by Dean's side then, an ancient book in his hands. "What do you want?" Dean questioned again.

"Go ahead, send me back to Hell. I don't care!" I screamed gleefully, practically vibrating in excitement.

Dean grabbed me around the throat then, and dumped the water in my mouth. My throat tore open and my tongue lit on fire as the water kept coming and coming. I was drowning in fire, I thought. He was never going to stop and I was going to be burnt from the inside out. When he released me I leaned to the side and spat out blood and pieces of flesh.

"Oh, Macy _really_ enjoyed that. Here, talk to her for a few minutes," and for the first time in half a year, I was in control. I was in control, and it felt so much worse than having someone else driving.

I sobbed loudly, hands twisting in the ropes around my wrists and only succeeding in hurting myself. "Please!" I screamed when the two shared a look. "Please, I'm so sorry! I-I didn't mean to!"

"Hey, calm down," Dean started.

"It hurts, please," I quieted. "No more, please, please," I begged repeating my mantra over and over again.

I could feel it inside me, rubbing along my body like a silky fox. It purred within me, clearly coaxing me to keep crying, keep begging. I could feel the thing slip back into control about mid sentence, and just when I could see Sam and Dean's resolve starting to break, when they started to untie me, I was no longer in control. The thing glared back up at them with a grin, "She really is a whiny bitch, isn't she?"

"How can you do that?" Dean questioned, staring down at me with true curiosity. "Put a girl through something like that; make her think it's her fault this whole time? Why?"

I cackled wildly, tears of laughter coming to my eyes. I calmed down enough to snort out, "Because it's _fun_."

"Sam," Dean turned to his brother, walking back a little before turning back around to watch as his brother began speaking a different language.

I was given the reins again and I looked up at Sam, tears clouding my vision. My tongue was useless; it was burnt down to a point where it just lay in a bloody heap in my mouth. I watched the tall man in front of me and whispered, "Help me."

He stopped mid incantation and turned to Dean. Dean stared at me with cold eyes. He couldn't know it was really me, he couldn't know the demon wasn't really speaking right now. "Please," I whimpered. "Please help me."

"Sam," Dean said.

"Dean, she's-'

"Sam, she's not even really alive now," Dean reminded his brother. "She's not even the one talking."

"_Please," _I begged. "No more, please!"

Sam picked up his speaking and I felt the thing wrestle with an invisible source. I felt it scream inside me, and that scream tore from me. My ribs were cracking and rebuilding themselves over and over again. My organs were exploding but staying intact. My throat was ripping apart from the power of the screams that barreled from me over, and over, and over again. And when the last of the black smoke disappeared, and I was truly alone in my own body, I wept.

I cried fat tears that rolled down my cheeks while the two rushed to untie me. I fell to my knees in front of the chair and on the chalk circle around me. Dean was holding my arm while talking to Sam, but I couldn't hear him. I had been stabbed, shot, killed, dozens of times.

I felt all of it again.

I felt my bones break, my insides rip apart, and I screamed, and cried, and when it was all out, when all the pain was gone, I blinked open my eyes. _I _blinked _my_ eyes open to look up into a pair of green ones. They stared down into mine with self loathing hatred and so much sadness. I took a final breath and released it with a, "Thank you," as my eyes slid close to the world for a final time.

_And when they reopened, I was home. My mother sat next to me at the family dinner table, my brothers sat across from me, and my father sat at the head of the table. He was sober, drinking water like the rest of us. My brothers were laughing heartily and my mother rubbed my back softly._

"_Are you okay, sweetheart?" she asked with a soft smile and a kind voice._

_I felt tears prick my eyes as I nodded, "Yeah, Mom, I'm alright."_

"_Good," she smiled, her laugh lines showing. "Pass the green beans to your brother," she advised._

_And as I passed the bowl to him, and his fingers touched mine, I knew. I knew I was in Heaven, where I belonged, with the only people who mattered. All thanks to a man with green eyes. Thanks to his brother. Thanks to Sam and Dean Winchester._


End file.
